How to Apologize
by AkaiShinda
Summary: ... to your Brit, when he is a grumpy old man? America has done all he shouldn't have: just before Christmas and before their 35th anniversary, he caused their first fight. He has to come up with a neat and organized plan to apologize and show his love to England, but that's not so easy when said nation doesn't want to see him? He asks his own people to help. UsUk, todays AU.


Compared to the other days, this one was incredibly cold, much to America's chagrin who wore only a tee under his trademark jacket. The air was clean but frozen as he inhaled, and he could see his exhale for long seconds before disappearing. He spent these days before Christmas at home alone since the President and his family needed some private time separated from him, and now he was wandering on the streets of Washington DC, walking towards a crappy McD's to get something. That was fine...

The days he had spent in his free time were usually filled with work or playing video games with Tony, imprisoned in the White House or in the Pentagon so people couldn't see him wandering aimlessly anywhere. Recently a couple of journalists have realized that he, the same guy from the photos of a seventy years' album appeared around the legislative power buildings in the same uniform or the same type of jacket. They started making more pictures of him, paparazzis with England and Japan... he was quite glad they didn't find his identity over the places and his grip squeezed on his purse that held his fake identity card inside.

Speaking of which, he had to remind his president to re-new the birth date in the database as well. If someone was to look for a certain Alfred F. Jones, they had to find accurate numbers and dates... His phone buzzed in his pocket and he took it out from his pocket to check his messages. Wishes from all around the world had filled his inbox during the day, but there was only one person left who didn't greet him the proper way. As the thought came to his mind, America's calm expression changed into a bitter and disappointed look and he stopped on the street to recollect himself.

He had a quarrel with England. Most of the times it was the other who apologized and curled up in his lap on the sofa to cuddle for hours and make up, talking the whole issue over just to make it sure, they were on the same wavelength but this time it was too much. Over their relationship of nearly forty years (oh God), America never has been so inpatient with his lover and just three days before Christmas he insulted the most basic feelings of England.

During the year they had several things to do separately and it obviously didn't help to resolve the tension to camp at each other's places for weekends and just go away on Sunday night... America hated this distance in their relationship. Every second Friday afternoon he got on the plane and went to Britain, just to spend two days there and board on Sunday evening... The time he spent with England was always too short, only two nights together, minus the jet lag here and there...

In the beginning it was all sunshine and happiness, he was head over heels around England and happy on the fact that after one century of longing he was together with his beloved one, but as the years and decades passed things got a bit more complicated. One could say, they were over honeymoon and their true habits started coming on the surface... England would never give up his afternoon tea, hated when his lunch was later than two PM, always insisted that he'll cook dinner for America 'Meri' as he called him when they were alone, was infuriated when America left his clothes and stuff all over his flat or didn't put on socks with flip-flops...

This time, America was fed up with the household-fairy and the most hardworking sides of England. He wanted his boyfriend, his lover and sweetheart to be just with him during the Christmas holidays, to watch movies, walk on the streets while holding hands, get him hot chocolate and see him blushing over the fact that he is being loved. Yes, America loved England, but this wasn't always so easy. The grumpy man has never been a morning person, now he didn't find America beside himself in the bed and that day he found the boy, playing video games and munching biscuits he ate during tea-time. There the bitch fit started, and America wasn't in the mood to stand up and apologize for leaving him alone on Saturday morning. He listened for a while, and then retorted but it was just the oil on the flames.

So they weren't on the best terms right now. Actually he packed in an hour and booked the flight to disappear while England curled up in his armchair and hugged himself, his knees pulled up to his chest. America wasn't sure if he was crying but when he closed to the door and took a deep breath, he heard something from the inside. It wasn't the cat.

He lifted his eyes to look up on the skies but his heart sank. He made England cry.

The air was freezing cold. He could feel his insides shake when he took a deep breath, just like he did back in London. He has made a terrible mistake.

He reached for his pocket when his mind remembered why he didn't hear England's voice for nearly three days... he didn't pick up the phone for him. He knew from the First Lady that Arthur wished them Merry Christmas, but she also told him that Arthur didn't mention his name at all. He tried to maintain his reputation of being a well-mannered gentleman and his voice didn't tremble at all when she asked if he wished to talk with America. He said, 'No, it wouldn't be appropriate.'

America had no idea what England was doing. He wasn't on the best terms with Scotland, but Ireland and Wales could visit him, or vice versa... Hopefully he didn't spend Christmas alone.

Hopefully.

America stopped again when the red light warned him at the crossroads. He looked up again on the dark, cloudy sky but he couldn't see any stars that evening. It was just dark-gray, sullen and all that thing that reminded America on sad thoughts. He wanted to make up with England, he wanted to spend the Holy Night at his place, sipping hot chocolate and hug him close. Thinking on this, he doubted if England wanted it differently.

He wiped his eyes with his left hand before squeezing his purse again in his pocket. England didn't want to see him, but was this his grumpy side or his true feelings? How could one be sure to read England's mood?

If he would just show up at his door and take him around the town, would England be happy or he would leave him there? He was always happy and cheerful (even though he did his best to hide it) when America suddenly appeared at his place and greeted him with flowers. He had to express his love without being there physically, somehow... it was a bad idea to run away from London, now he had to organize all the things to get back there...

Or... he could ask some help from his respected people, to organize a trip over here. Without telling England the reason, of course.

America grinned as he took his phone out of his pocket and dialled the number of one of his best friend. Michael Donley, Secretary of Air Force. It took a while until the man picked it up, but when he heard Alfred's voice, the young man could see the other's smile creep up on his face.

"I'd need a transfer, sir." He initiated. "From England."

"Jones, you are in Washington DC right now. What is that you need from England?"

"Himself. Just don't let him find it out."

"You want to kidnap England from his own home and get him to your place?"

"I'd like New York, Mr. Donley. He likes New York."

"No, Alfred, I guess you misunderstand me. You want us to kidnap Lord Kirkland, one of the most secured person of the whole British Government."

"I trust you, so your whole nation trusts you; I hope to see him tomorrow evening." He continued even though he was slightly afraid that the officer will just tell him to wake up from his dreams.

"I'm sure you know who we are talking about, Jones. The nation of S.A.S., the pirates and the.."

"You don't have to introduce him, I know him better than you could imagine. If you have trouble with organizing, of course I can ask Amos too." That pulled the trigger at Donley.

"You don't let me a day off at Christmas, Jones!"

"Your dearest nation is in desperate need, how could you reject such a request?"

He knew if someone would actually call him with such things on Christmas, he would yell something obscene at the person and hang up the phone, but Donley couldn't do that, especially now that Alfred mentioned the commandant of the Marine Corps. He smirked at the notion how evil he was in real.

"Alright kiddo, I'm gonna get your dearest over here, but if Lord Kirkland beats up our men, I'm gonna sue you."

"Okay, you're the best."

"I know, I know."

"Merry Christmas, Donley."

"Sure... thanks."

America hung up and bit his lower lip in confusion. Right, they'll get England there the next day, so he'll need some preparations for the evening and possibly the whole day after tomorrow. If... if England will be in the mood.

. . .

A/N:

I know I'm late with the Recipe For Life update, but I couldn't sit and watch others contribute to the Christmas feeling with all fluff and cuteness. I'm here to bring you some adventure AND love.

So.. I hope I did everything right, of course none of these characters have anything to do with reality, I have never been in the Buckingham Palace or in Washington DC, but I hope I didn't fail anyone's expectations either. I like to write about places where I've never been. Bah.

Please tell me how you like it I know it's long and not betad, but I can't expect my beta to correct every little thing I write. ;P I hope you enjoyed it, but I'm curious of your thoughts so please review. It always helps to continue :3


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